


Home Sweet Home

by lizwontcry



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8609791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizwontcry/pseuds/lizwontcry
Summary: Mike's always been attracted to Ginny, that's just a given, but now he realizes he has feelings for her, too. With the trade to Chicago looming over his head, he and Ginny have a few things to talk about--and not talk about.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Pitch fic! I'm excited. (And of course the first one is slightly smutty, why wouldn't it be?) Thanks for reading, and I heart feedback and kudos!

It's easy to tune everything out on the treadmill. Mike learned a long, long time ago that he can't outrun his all-consuming thoughts and lingering pain, but that's never stopped him from trying anyway. He hates the treadmill, always has, but it's the only thing that really makes him sweat, so he does it. And in an effort to take his mind off of the potential trade to Chicago, he runs. He runs, and he runs, and it hurts, and he knows his knees will be paying for it later, but for now it's invigorating. Oh, and he doesn't have to think about all the other things he's trying so hard not to think about.

Let's see, what's on that list today? The trade to Chicago--he likes the Cubs' chances of winning it all, but even if he did finally get his ring, it's not like he would have earned it there. His ex-wife is engaged, and that family he always wanted is starting to look like a fading dream. Amelia hasn't stopped giving him the cold shoulder, which he gets, but he doesn't like or appreciate it. Livan is waiting in the wings to take Mike's place, which Mike is not ready to let go of yet. It's funny; he hasn't every had to worry about being replaced and now that he's practically middle-aged, it's all anyone can talk about anymore. 

And Ginny.

Oh, yes, Ginny. Ginny who hates cilantro and loves Katy Perry. Ginny, who's been taking attention from the team for months; who came to San Diego wanting to earn her spot and instead has been the target of controversy in every possible way. Ginny, who finally carved out a place for herself on the team. The players respect her. It's apparent to Mike that they'd do anything for her, if she asked or even if she didn't. 

The realization that he has feelings for her didn't necessarily take him by surprise. She's an attractive, young female who loves baseball possibly even more than Mike does. They get along. They _laugh._ A lot. But Mike hasn't gotten to this point in his life and his career where he doesn't know the score. He's an old man and she's a young woman. What in the world would she do with him? How would they ever make something work together? He has nothing to offer Ginny except some harmless flirting and occasional career advice, which would hardly apply to her. She deserves more. She needs more. And so does Mike.

Still, that doesn't stop him from thinking all kinds of things when Ginny walks into the room, wearing a blue sports bra and the tiniest black shorts he's ever seen on her. Of course he's attracted to her, who isn't? He's known that from the beginning. What he didn't know until his little speech to Omar and Blip about Ginny's love for grape soda and hate for cilantro is that he somehow, without even realizing it, has developed feelings for this woman. That wasn't supposed to happen, obviously. He can't fall for the rookie on his own team, like, who even does that?

"Oh, my god, what in the world are you listening to?!" Is Ginny's greeting when she sees Mike running on the treadmill. 

Before Ginny rudely interrupted him, Mike was listening to his workout playlist on the Bluetooth speakers. It's all the songs he listened to a million times, over and over again, back when he was a teenager and he was trying not to think about his absolute mess of a mother and the man he had to find out the hard way was his father. Rock, alternative, heavy metal; he loved anything that made his heart race and fueled his desire to excel at sports. 

"Welcome to the Jungle" is playing now; before that it was a random Whitesnake song that Mike used to rock out at karaoke.

"Well, I'm glad you asked," Mike said, slowing down the treadmill a bit so he could concentrate on schooling the rookie once again. "This right here is Guns N' Roses. It's from their first album, which absolutely changed the entire music industry. I saw them live a few months ago; they're doing a reunion tour right now and it's all very exciting."

Ginny looks so very bored. "Oh, fascinating, thank you for providing me with that information. I guess I need an education on music that was created before I was even born."

 _Ouch._ Like he needs to be reminded of how old he is at a time like this.

"Look, Rook, in the clubhouse I have to listen to all the crap the young guys like to play at full blast," Mike says. "I've had enough of Drake and Rhianna and Katy Perry to last a lifetime. So when I'm alone--which I was before you came in--I like to listen to my music. Okay?"

Ginny laughs. "Yes, old man, I suppose that's okay. I'll just be over here trying to ignore _your_ music." Ginny sits down on the floor and starts stretching. _Oh, god,_ Mike automatically thinks. _Anything but the stretching!_

Mike endures five long, long minutes of the stretching (and the terrible humming) before she finally stops and gets on the treadmill. The two of them run together in kind of a rhythmic dance for a while. Mike's in the zone; his favorite Skid Row song plays, and then a C&C Music Factory song from the early nineties to mix things up. To his surprise, Ginny mouths the words to the song as she runs. She clearly doesn't know she's doing it, so Mike just makes a note of it in his head as something he can make fun of her for in the future. And also something to add to his list of reasons why she is the most sexy and yet also adorable woman he's maybe ever met.

When he's finished his hour-long run, Mike finally gets off the treadmill and moves on to the weights. Another Guns N' Roses song is playing, "It's So Easy," which Ginny is kind of bopping her head along to like she actually likes it or something.

"Hey, you know, I don't just listen to pop music," she says when she notices him looking at her. "My pops always listened to Motown when I was growing up. Don't you even test me on my knowledge of Aretha."

Mike laughs. "Oh, I won't. I'll take your word for it."

Mike continues with the weights, noting which muscles feel more sore than usual. He's in his own little world when he looks into the mirror and sees Ginny is, well... she's checking him out. And she's not very subtle about it, either. When she realizes she's been caught, she looks away quickly, and he can tell she's embarrassed. It's obviously not the first time he's ever seen someone noticing him before, but with Ginny, it's a whole other ballgame. For some reason, this gives him the courage to blurt out what he's been wanting to say since she came into the room.

He puts the weights back in the rack and walks over to Ginny's treadmill. She looks at him curiously. 

"Hey, Baker, why don't you let me take you to dinner tonight? My treat."

"Yeah? Who else will be there?" She's teasing him, probably. Hopefully.

"Just the two of us," Mike says, offering no other explanation.

Ginny smiles. "Yeah. Sure. Sounds good. You want to go to Chili's or something?"

Mike does his best to look offended. "Please. Like I'd ever be seen at a Chili's. I'll pick you up at 8:00. Wear something sexy."

Before Ginny can come up with some kind of brilliant sarcastic and witty reply, Mike winks at her and walks out. 

He's almost to his car when his phone buzzes. It's a text from Ginny that says, _See you later, old man._ She always has to have the last word, that one. He can't help but feel the excitement and anticipation of what this evening will entail for the two of them, and he tries not to think about the potential trainwreck it could become.

*****

Mike takes a long time getting ready to pick up Ginny. He puts a lot more effort than he usually does on a date, and he's not even sure this _is_ a date. 

Of course he knows that everything about this is a bad idea. She's so much younger, first of all, but that's only the most obvious problem. That, and the fact that she's a teammate--although he's about to solve that one once and for all. Thinking of what the media will do to them when they find out--it could be catastrophic for both of them. So why _is_ he doing this, then? Well, because he has to. Mike is drawn to Ginny, and something inside of him feels like he has to at least explore the notion that possibly maybe she feels even a crumble of the same way. 

He almost talks himself out of it--he almost turns around and goes home. But something inside of him refuses to give up, a feeling he knows and loves. Baseball has given him everything over the years, and taken just as much. But even when his career is over, he'll know that he gave it everything he had. At least he _tried._ And maybe that's the attitude he has going into this date tonight.

Mike casually walks through the hotel and gets on the elevator. Thankfully the young couple he's sharing it with don't recognize him. When he gets to Ginny's door, he again hesitates. One last _what the hell am I doing_ goes through his mind, but before he can let that thought take over his brain, the door opens. Instead of Ginny, though, Evelyn is staring back at him, looking both determined and vulnerable.

"Hello, Evelyn, it's lovely to see you this evening," Mike says, wishing he could have been a fly on the wall in that hotel room--he bets Ginny and Evelyn had a lot to talk about.

"Yes, Michael, I'm sure it is," she says. Before he can get a glimpse of Ginny, Evelyn closes the door behind her. "Look, I don't know what you think you're doing here, but Ginny, she's..." Evelyn seems to have trouble finishing this thought.

"I know, Evie. I don't have evil intentions, I promise you," he says. He doesn't blame Evelyn for being cautious, but hell, they haven't even gone on the date (if that's what it is) yet. 

"I know. You're a good guy, Mike. Blip told me about what you said to Omar--you're kind of dumb, you know? You put all your cards on the table right there in front of God and everyone."

Mike chuckles. "Yes, thank you for pointing that out to me." Something terrible occurs to him at that moment. "Wait, you didn't tell Ginny about that... did you?"

Evelyn swats Mike on the arm. "Of course not! Ginny deserves to find out what an idiot you are on her own time. Have fun tonight, baby. Just not too much fun."

Evelyn hugs Mike and then saunters down the hallway like the classy lady she is. Mike laughs, and then knocks on the door. It takes a few seconds, but when Ginny finally does answer, he has to take a deep breath. Of course   
Mike has seen Ginny all dressed up before, and he knows she's a gorgeous woman. But tonight, she's wearing a pink dress that wraps around her curves like a glove. Her shoulders are bare, and the dress is short. And more than that? She's wearing it to go out _with him._ It's just the two of them and that dress. This gives Mike more hope than it should. 

But it's more than what she's wearing that takes him by surprise--it's what she's listening to. On full volume, resonating throughout the suite, is the sound of Mötley Crüe's Home Sweet Home. 

Mike laughs. "Are you serious with this?"

"Of course," Ginny says, looking proud of herself. "I'm just trying to educate myself on what the elder generation listened to back in the day."

"Interesting. So what do you think of the old folks music?"

"I like it. I can see why _you_ like it," she says, and pokes him in the chest. Mike can't help but feel a small jolt from the physical contact.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he says. "Speaking of compliments... you look amazing, Ginny. Just, damn." He can't even pretend not to notice how amazing she looks at a time like this.

Ginny smiles, a smile he's never seen before, and he's seen a lot of her smiles. This one is private. He likes this one a lot.

"You hardly ever call me that, you know? I have to say, it's refreshing," Ginny says. "Hey, do you want to come in for a second, or are you in a rush to eat?"

Mike isn't in a rush to do anything, he realizes. As long as he's with Ginny, he'll be just fine. 

"No, no, I can come in," he says. Ginny opens the door wider and he comes in to her suite.

"So when are you going to buy a real house?" He asks, looking out at the field from the window. 

"Soon," Ginny says. "I just wasn't sure..."

"You're going to be here a long time," Mike replies. "You're going to outlast us all. I know a good realtor who can help you out if you want."

 

"Yeah, I bet you do," Ginny says, laughter in her voice. 

"What in the world is that supposed to mean?" Mike pretends to be offended.

"I'm sure you know a lot of realtors. And flight attendants and waitresses and interior designers."

Mike chuckles. "You're right, I do. But none of them are here right now, as you see." They might as well address the elephant in the room before taking it any further.

Ginny nods shyly. She sits on the couch and crosses her (amazing) legs, and he finds himself gravitating towards her as if his body were independent from his mind. He sits next to her, and they look like they're just seeing each other for the first time.

Mike doesn't know what to say next--or do next. He wants to kiss her--everything in his body wants this--but it's too early. And even though she's kind of flirting with him, he still doesn't know if she wants the same thing he does. 

"Hey, um, I've heard a rumor...a lot of rumors, actually. Is it true? Are you really going to Chicago?" Ginny's face is unreadable, even as he looks in her eyes for a sign of how she feels about that.

"Thinkin' about it," Mike says. "I think it might be the best for everyone."

"Really? What about--what about the best for _you_?" She asks. 

Mike shrugs. "I've lived in San Diego for a long time, Baker. I don't really have anything tying me here anymore. My ex has moved on, the team is chomping at the bit to get rid of me and bring in fresh new blood... maybe I can start over in Chicago. Or at least have a clean slate."

He doesn't know if any of that is true. He's 36; how can he realistically start over? But the thought of starting a different kind of life in a different kind of place is vastly appealing to him these days. There's just one thing--or person--getting in the way of this plan.

"You don't have... anything? No reason to stay here at all?" Ginny says softly, and he thinks she's kind of hurt by this--maybe a lot hurt--but instead she has this little grin on her face that is making his head spin. 

"Shit, Ginny, of course there's a reason... I just don't know if that reason feels the same way," Mike says. 

He has a lot more to say on the subject but before he can, Ginny moves closer and kisses him. It takes him by complete surprise--for some reason, in all the scenarios he pictured this happening, it was always him kissing her first, not the other way around. But this... he'll take this. Because it's a good kiss. No--it's an _excellent_ kiss. And it doesn't necessarily have to end. They can just keep doing this all night. Or every night.

It does end, though. Ginny pulls back and giggles a little. "Sorry. I just--I needed to do that."

"I needed you to do that, too," Mike says. He takes her hand, and she puts her head on his shoulder. She smells so good. Mike is kind of pissed about how unfair it all is. She's so young, she's in her prime, she's on the way up. Mike is none of those things.

"Do you want to get going to the restaurant? We have reservations in an hour..." Mike says. He even reserved a private room for them to minimize the chance of gossipy baseball fans, not to mention the press, taking hundreds of pictures of them together before they even have a chance to sit down for dinner.

"No."

"No?"

"No. I don't want to go to the restaurant. I don't want to go anywhere," Ginny says, and even after the kiss, even after the dress, even after all the posters on her wall growing up, Mike finally lets himself believe they're on the   
same page.

"Okay," Mike says. "Okay." He leans over and kisses her again. She bites his lip. He grabs her neck and pulls her closer to him. In return, in one quick move, she's straddling him. They're face to face, and he can no longer control the rising situation in his pants.

Although this is literally the only thing he wants to do in the world right now, he wonders if this is right. If it's okay. He already knows Ginny is sort of impulsive, and he doesn't want her to regret anything. 

"Wait, Ginny, come on... have you thought about this?" He finally manages to say.

"I've thought about this since I was 12 years old," Ginny says in his ear. "You don't know how many times I've thought about it. And I know you've thought about it, too."

No Rain by Blind Melon comes on the Bluetooth speakers and Mike tires not think to think about how he was in junior high when this song came out, and how Ginny was just a toddler. 

"Look, Mike, I get it," Ginny says. "I know whatever _this_ is, it's probably doomed from the start. It's not a good idea. You're probably leaving town soon. It's risky. But... the problem is, _I just don't care._ So let's pretend for just one night that we aren't under a microscope for the whole world to see, that we have obligations to every one else, that our lives have never really been our own. Does that sound good to you?"

"Nothing has ever sounded better in my entire life," Mike says, and so they kiss again. A lot. At first they manage to keep their hands to themselves and just let their lips do all the work, but of course, they can't help it after too long. Ginny unbuttons Mike's nice shirt and flings it to the floor. He manages to unzip her dress and pull down the top, revealing a lovely pink bra. Ginny's nipples instantly harden when Mike drags his thumb across them over the thin material of her bra. She can't help but moan a little, which is maybe the best sound Mike has ever heard before. So he does it again, and she moans again, and he _needs_ to take it off now, he needs to see her naked skin. And when he does, he is definitely not disappointed.

"Mmm, you are so beautiful," he murmurs, and she silences him with another kiss. They take time to explore. Ginny finds out that nibbling Mike's ear makes him gasp for breath. Mike discovers that kissing her neck makes Ginny shiver--in a good way. Hands are everywhere, lips and tongues have no bounds, everything is new and different. Mike hasn't felt this way since he and Rachel first got together so many years ago. It's kind of overwhelming, but he doesn't want it to stop.

On the speakers, an old Aerosmith song is playing, and Mike can't believe he's making out like a teenager with Ginny Baker. He's more than making out with her. He's touching her. He's making her moan. He's running his hands up her smooth thighs, going higher and higher each time, watching her face, feeling her lips on his. 

It matters that the two of them are competitors, that they spent nearly their whole lives training to be athletes, that they both have incredible stamina. Mike may be older than every single one of his teammates, but he can still outrun a majority of them. So he and Ginny match each other's every move, and they don't let the other take control without trying to take the control back. Mike is not particularly used to this--the women he's been with since Rachel have all let him take the lead--but he enjoys it. A lot.

After making out for what seems like weeks, Ginny gets off of Mike's lap long enough to take his pants off. She puts her hand in his underwear and he gasps, just out of sheer surprise, really. 

"You're kind of aggressive," Mike breaths, as she touches him, as she feels him getting harder and harder.

"I know. It's awesome, right?" 

"It's pretty fuckin' cool," he says, and leans back while she gets a taste of him. Oh, man. Oh, boy. He is so fucked.

When he's on the brink of completely losing control, he grabs her and pulls her back up to him. "Now it's my turn," he says, and Ginny grins. She slides out of her dress and throws her underwear to the side of the couch, and now Mike has a completely naked Ginny Baker in his arms. They're both naked. He suddenly feels vulnerable about his middle-aged body, but Ginny doesn't seem to care. She's kissing him all over--her complete attention is on him. 

"Do you have, like, a bed or something?" Mike says dumbly as she licks his earlobe. 

"I don't know, that might be dangerous," Ginny whispers. "We might do something _bad_ on a bed."

"Oh, you're right about that," Mike whispers back. "Take the lead, darlin'."

Ginny grabs his hand and he follows her into the bedroom. The bed isn't made, her clothes are all over the floor, and there are half-empty cans of Dr. Pepper everywhere. Somehow the realization that Ginny is kind of a slob turns him on even more.

She tries to get on top of him when they make it to the bed, but instead, he's on top, kissing her everywhere, enjoying the way her body moves, as if she wants more--more of _him._ He knows it's probably pretty gross and sexist of him, but the way Ginny makes him feel so powerful and manly and strong... he digs it. 

Finally he gives into curiosity and his hands travel up her thighs again, but this time doesn't just stop there. Ginny inhales sharply when he reaches her clit, and he very much enjoys the look on her face as he touches her. She is very, very wet, and he is very, very hard. 

He wants to taste her so badly--he's actually been thinking about it for weeks, and it's made him feel like such a pervert, but now it seems like she wants it. So he kisses her thighs, traveling up again, and his tongue finds her clit just like his fingers did minutes ago. This time she moans, and doesn't stop moaning as he does his thing. Mike is a good baseball player, maybe even great, but he's also really fucking good at eating a girl out. Some say it's his specialty. 

Ginny arches her back and moans loudly after Mike tries all his proven tricks. She grabs him and pulls him on top of her and kisses him greedily. He likes that she's tasting herself on his lips. He likes it a lot.

"Mike... I want..." Ginny can't seem to finish her thought, but Mike is pretty sure he can figure it out.

"You sure? I thought you don't hook up with ball players," he says playfully. She bites his lip hard in response and he's pretty sure he can taste blood, but it's worth it.

"Shut up. You know... what I want," she says, and yes, he does. She leans over and opens her drawer to pull out a condom. He doesn't question this--he just lets her put it on him. And after that, all bets are off. He slides   
inside her, and as cliche as it is, fireworks start going off in his head. Ginny is clinging to him. She grabs his ass and pulls him deeper into her. It's hard, and it's soft, and it's everything Mike never knew he needed.

Before he knows it, she's on top of him now, and she's fucking him like she's on a mission and has something to prove. Maybe she does--he doesn't know for sure. All he knows is that Ginny is saving him from something, and perhaps he's saving her, too. He's never felt this close to another human being before. 

Later, after the sex is done clouding his brain, Mike thinks about the connection they had together. They have a lot more in common than surface things. He knows her upbringing must have been similar to his. He knows how much she must have sacrificed to get to this point, to be the first woman, and a woman of color at that, in the major leagues. Sooner or later, they would talk about it. They'd talk about more than just cilantro and grape juice and Katy Perry songs. But for now... now they had a karmic debt to settle with their bodies.

After, like, five different positions and many multiple orgasms for Ginny later, Mike is on the brink. Ginny knows this somehow, so she slows her rhythm, making sure he feels it all--the tightness, the warmth, the wetness--and _his_ orgasm sends him into another orbit entirely. 

When it's over--and it's not over quickly--they both fall back on the bed together. Rock and Roll All Night by Kiss is playing on the speakers now--Mike loves this song; it always gets him in the mood to kick some ass. He wonders for a moment if Ginny needs him to cuddle her at this moment. He's not usually a cuddler--he has even more energy after sex than he does before it, and cuddling is not his thing. But to his (secret) relief, Ginny gets up and goes to the kitchen. Mike rolls off the bed and follows her. She gets some Gatorade out of the mini-fridge and grabs one for him, too. They are naked and drinking Gatorade.

"Well, that was... good," Ginny says, trying to stay casual. Mike knows she just got her world rocked--she's not that good of an actress.

"Yeah, it was all right," Mike replies, and Ginny laughs. 

The two of them get some semblance of clothes back on, and Ginny orders pizza. While they wait for it, they hold hands and talk. About everything and nothing.

Over pizza, Ginny takes a bite and a huge sip of Dr. Pepper, and then says, "Hey, I know the situation you're in and I understand. I wouldn't blame you for going to Chicago. They have a great team. But if you're leaving just to run away from something here, you shouldn't go. San Diego is your home; the Padres are your team. Don't let anyone tell you different. I may just be a rookie but I know that for sure."

Mike nods. She does have a point. And for some reason, the urge to leave has suddenly dissipated quite a bit. Maybe he'll retire as a Padre after all. Maybe management will just have to deal with that.

"Well, if I stay, we're gonna have to do _that_ again," he says, and she laughs. The two of them eat pizza and talk and laugh for another hour before Mike begrudgingly leaves the hotel. He doesn't know what will happen, where he'll go, or what he'll do, but Mike does know that Ginny Baker has changed his life completely, and he doesn't want to go back.


End file.
